


9th of october

by LightningInABottle



Series: BLUE LIPS [12]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Confessions, Crying, Drug Addiction, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Ouch, Reconciliation, Recovery, Sobbing, Song Lyrics, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningInABottle/pseuds/LightningInABottle
Summary: Thomas and Alexander's relationship shatters into pieces, and Alexander makes a last-ditch attempt at being honest.Maybe this time, they really have a chance to change.





	9th of october

**Author's Note:**

> For enhanced reading experience, listen to 9th of october by Tove Lo  
> (And read the other works to understand anything)

_ Funny how certain days can change so irreversibly that they’re always branded in your mind.  _

Alexander Hamilton closed his eyes and thought of John Laurens. Handsome as ever, with full lips stretched into a grin and curls that were constantly kept tied back for the sake of neatness. He stood in Alexander’s mind as a perfect replica of the last time Alexander saw him. Not counting the funeral, of course, because there, John was dressed up in a three-piece with his face powdered up. A far cry from his ratty, weed smelling t-shirt and jeans. The costume was his father’s idea, of course. 

John smiled and Alexander could feel his heart breaking, the dam he had tried to build up for so long finally cracking and all of his emotions spilling out. 

Things with John were always unconventional but perfect, in the cheesy rom-com way. Roommates turned best friends turned lovers. And yet their relationship was always unique, having the aspects of fumbling teenage stoners and a longtime married couple, but somehow at the same time. It wasn’t an ordinary relationship, but it was  _ theirs  _ and Alexander recalled it now, with piercing detail, imagining John. 

_ We never had coffee table books or dinner parties.  _ It was always crowded dressers with rubbish piled high and drunken house gatherings. Compared to the stuffy atmosphere John was raised in, he strongly preferred less strict ways of entertaining himself. In his mind’s eye, Alexander stepped forward, reaching out to John but knowing he would never be able to walk close enough to touch. 

_ We always had hazy nights and sex, cliché's in Paris.  _ During times like this, when Alexander shut himself away from the outside world in favor of the darkness and John, he could recall the taste of sweaty skin in a wonderful haze of  _ good.  _ Nobody else could understand them, and nobody could even hope to understand Alexander after the accident. Not even his closest friends, who drifted away slowly but surely, leaving Alexander to glue the pieces of his heart back together haphazardly. 

Even after almost two years had passed, Alexander’s feelings still hit as sharply as a knife to the gut. Memories were just as lucid, burning eerily bright as if etched into the back of his eyelids. A  _ don’t disturb _ sign jokingly put up on their shared bedroom on the top floor, somewhat of a running joke between them and Hercules and Lafayette. Some days, Alexander thought of what they were doing, where they were. He tried not to. 

The picture formed in his mind, as clear as it was two years ago. Him and John, against the rest of the world, getting high by the window, letting the smoke clear out into the New York evening. Alexander, the ambitious journalist; John, the rich activist. Them, in bed, with their eyes locked together like there was no point in ever looking away because all that mattered was right in front of them already.   
_How perfect was it?_ _  
_

“It was…The 9th of October.” Alexander’s voice was barely more than a whisper. After such a long time in silence, it felt  _ wrong  _ to sit there and talk to Thomas. He didn’t know the reason for his outburst, but part of him knew there wasn’t an exact one. There was just the knowledge that John was gone and he wasn’t coming back and Thomas was saying those three words and Alexander couldn’t take it anymore. 

Things had calmed down after the ultimatum was given, leaving them both to marinate in guilt and dread. An hour or so later, Alexander opened the door to their apartment and plopped down on the couch. Thomas had followed, worrying at his bottom lip like he was regretting setting their fight in motion. But there was no going back now, and Alexander forged ahead despite the hurt. Despite the fact that he might lose Thomas after this, for good. 

“I always remember that time, no bad things had happened then.” He had a steady boyfriend, a good circle of friends, passion and life and no dependency on things that would destroy him from the inside out. But now, looking at where he was, Alexander was completely lost as to how he had gotten here. 

“The 9th was the day we started this whole thing.” Thomas’s voice was flat, equal parts reminder and question. He was right—Alexander had shown up to that club with a refrain and unwanted memories pumping through his brain, only to end up with so much more. But the reason he was there in the first place was...different. Same day, different people, different actions, different life. 

“We met because of the other day, because I couldn’t cope and needed an outlet.” Alexander had never wished for a hit as much as he did now, seeing the conflicting emotion in Thomas’s eyes. The almost-horror blooming on his face when he realized that their entire relationship, first hookup to this moment, was all another coping mechanism, another drug. Alexander tried to tell himself that he didn’t feel guilty, that he needed to say what was necessary and leave, before Thomas vanished by himself. 

“Honestly, you never thought that you would actually fall for me. But somehow you got pulled in.” Sometime between the drugged-up hatesex and biweekly meetups, they had lapsed into something that might be considered a relationship. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

“Somehow,” Thomas scoffed. Alexander didn’t look at him directly, instead glancing at the carpeted floor. He couldn’t bear to see, to feel, to remember. So he shut it out, just like he had with John. Gathering himself, Alexander continued.  _ Better to get this over with.  _

“Me and John, John Laurens, the one I used to date. We were always living so fast, trying to make every memory count until our hearts couldn’t hold anymore.” As he spoke, he couldn’t help but feel a chill running through him, a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that although this was supposed to be about John, the same was true for Thomas as well. Alexander refused to be seen as a fool because he fell head-over-heels too fast, but the cycle just seemed to repeat, over and over.

First John, who Alexander loved and loved and loved until he thought his heart might burst. John, who Alexander had lost to a coffin. Then Eliza, sweet and supportive; never infringing on the self-destruction until she was given no choice but to leave. Now there was Thomas, who hated Alexander once and would most likely hate him again.

Alexander could see Thomas’s emotions exploding out of him, fireworks of anger and pity and concern flashing in his eyes while Alexander imploded, crumpling in on himself like he couldn’t bear to see their carefully-built relationship crumble apart.  _ How would they ever let this go?  _

“So what you’re meaning to say is that…” Thomas’s sentence broke off for a mere moment before continuing. “You and Laurens,  _ that Laurens,  _ used to date? And on y’all’s  _ anniversary  _ or whatever, you sought  _ me  _ out. To numb the pain” 

“Yeah, something like that.”

Thomas shook his head, and every second spent in silence ate at Alexander’s heart even more. How could he ever hope to articulate the black hole of emptiness after giving somebody your heart completely and then losing it? How could he hope for Thomas to understand? 

_ —we never had—we never wanted— _

John and Alexander never had...or never wanted, a normal kind of love. The burned bright and were extinguished just as fast, after that horrible day. 

_ Some days even feel inconspicuous at first, labeling themselves as completely normal when in reality, disaster brews below the surface.  _

John smiled, but his eyes brimmed with tears. Alexander’s heart lurched, tripping down his ribs and shattering into cold, heavy shards in the pit of his stomach. He was vaguely aware of Thomas staring at him with an expression that was far from the hatred or disgust Alexander was expecting, but was too lost in the memories to concern himself with real-life. 

_ “We never had time for useless fights.”  _ Alexander reached out to John while his mouth moved, speaking words to Thomas that were meant to be barbed-wire jabs at him, at their relationship, at  _ everything.  _ John was always so unwilling to argue, leaving Alexander to his habits, whereas Thomas would fight tooth and nail for some twisted sense of health and morality.

_ “‘Bout dirty laundry.”  _ Alexander directed a pointed look at Thomas, too focused on imagining John in his mind. John, who unlike Thomas, never seemed to care what Alexander did. Thomas opened his mouth to speak, to protest, or maybe to find a way to convince Alexander that he only had the best intentions—but Alexander shushed him.

_ “We always had tender long goodbyes, packed bags in a hurry.”  _ Alexander, as a journalist had to travel. So his days with Gilbert and Herc, and nights with John, we’re always interrupted every week or so with travel. Sometimes to the neighboring city, other times to the other side of the country. Thomas had always been around, on the trips, where Alexander started petty fights in order to take his mind off of home.

Thomas was beginning to understand. Understand why Alexander was the way he was, why he had sought Thomas out. Alexander closed his eyes, took a deep breath. 

_ “Our last kiss at the bus stop…”  _ he trailed off, voice cracking. The last time he had seen John, felt his lips, the warmth of his hands. The day after their anniversary. It was a day like any other, and yet everything was ripped away. “ _ If I had known, I would’ve jumped off.”  _

Alexander choked up, feeling the hot sting of tears well up in his throat and press up against his eyes like pinpricks of lava. He knew it was true. If only he could’ve predicted what would happen, then Alexander knew he would’ve have done everything in his power to stay. But instead he left, a three day excursion to Boston in order to cover a scandal, 

And then John was gone.

Alexander opened his eyes, unsurprised to find Thomas staring at him. But the look in his eyes was unexpected. Not angry or betrayed or even pitying. No, Thomas looked like he was in pain, like all he wanted to do was reach out to Alexander. It was too unbearably tender, too reminiscent of John, and Alexander quickly glanced away.

_ And now...from the pieced of my heart: _

“I’m so sorry,” Alexander whispered, his voice both quiet enough and powerful enough to shatter glass. To bring the world he and Thomas had tenuously built crashing down around them.

Thomas didn’t speak for a while, burying his face in his hands. Alexander couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to process, and their silence was on the side of uncomfortable; stretching and stretching like a piece of gum. Until it snapped.

“Alexander…” Thomas said, hoarse and cautious. “ _ What happened? _ ”

Alexander couldn’t respond, how could he?  _ Tell him—don’t tell him—lie—love—confess.  _ It was impossible to restrain Alexander’s emotions, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He had to keep talking, change the subject,

“9th of October, I always remember. It was the day John and I started dating, the day we said our  _ ‘I love you’s,’  _  the day I—he—” The words were rushing out too fast now, tripping over themselves in an attempt to escape the place they were bottled up so much. “And ours too, when we hooked up.” 

“For what it’s worth,” Thomas said, “You never thought you’d fall for me either.” 

Alexander had to admit, if only to himself, that Thomas was right. He had never intended for their  _ thing  _ to get this far. It was just supposed to be a distraction, one of many. But somehow he got pulled in, trapped in a cycle that would end in disaster. That’s what happened when you lived fast, tried to make memories last until neither of you could handle it, unable to hold any more

But here they were, a living consequence of too much. Too much hate, too much attraction, too many highs. Now their relationship was exploding in little shards of the carefree passion they once had, while they were imploding, unable to even face each other.

_ Now, how would they let this go? _

Thomas pursed his lips, his eyes finding their way back to Alexander’s. The adoration in his eyes was as clear as day, and Alexander couldn’t believe how long it had taken for him to see it. After all, the way John had looked at him and the way Thomas stared at him now were nearly identical. Identical, save for the fact that one relationship was suddenly cut off while the other was about to shatter into smithereens like a porcelain cup. 

_ —we never had—we never wanted— _

Alexander knew that he and Thomas, from the very first time they smoked under the multicolored lights and the technicolor beat, would never have, or want, a normal kind of love. 

_ —waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

It was then, in that moment, that Alexander realized this was going to end. The one good thing in his life was going to crash and burn just like all the other good things from before and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. 

“We never wanted....” he trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence, to make whatever Thomas was going to say easier on both of them. They never wanted to catch feelings, they never wanted to get entangled, they never wanted any of this. Thomas leaned in, like Alexander was an easily spooked animal, and interlaced their fingers. His next words were so short, yet spoken with pure conviction, that they made Alexander rethink everything he thoughts was possible.

“ _ But still.”  _

Alexander suddenly understood. They had never wanted to fall in love; but still did. And he was still waiting for his heart, which was buried in the ground two years ago. But for some reason, Alexander still couldn’t bring himself to pull away, to save himself from eventual heartache. Thomas pulled him close, until Alexander’s chin was tucked over his shoulder and their limbs were tangled. 

“We never wanted a normal kind of love,” Alexander murmured, the first hint of tears spilling from his eyes. He could hardly allow himself to hope, to dream that  _ maybe  _ Thomas still wanted him.

Thomas had told Alexander that he loved him, and that he wanted this to work. But how could it, when he didn’t know the full story? He could take Alexander to the clinic and take care of him, but nothing would happen unless Alexander could find the courage to speak. From the drugs to the booze to the partying; the reason he had seen Thomas in that club. Why he still couldn’t bring himself to love.

Alexander’s last revolve fell away. It was time to break the cycle, to tell, to  _ be romantics.  _

“9th of October, I always remember…” he paused, gathering himself. He recalled the day, when he and John had kissed, under fluorescent kitchen lights. “9th of October, I always remember those big words, I said them first.” And then a year later, when they were curled around each other so soundly that not even God could pull them apart, Alexander spoke, saying three little words that were more momentous than anything he had said before. 

“9th of October, I always remember….” But what happened the very next day, almost two years ago now. “9th of October, can't think of it sober 'cause all of it fucking  _ hurts. _ ” Alexander’s voice cracked,  breaking apart under the strain. But Thomas was there, holding him close, keeping Alexander from crumbling. The silent question lay unspoken between them:  _ what happened?  _

“It was an armed robbery. Not even John, just...some random stranger in an alley. And John intervened.” Alexander was sobbing now, crying into the fabric of Thomas’s shirt.  _ A hero,  _ the police had told Alexander via a phone call.  _ A hero,  _ John’s family tearfully proclaimed at the funeral.  _ A hero,  _ said Herc and Laf anytime they tried to comfort Alexander.

But Alexander didn’t want to think of John as a hero, some type of martyr to be talked about in the papers for a week and then never again. No, John wasn’t a hero. He was just a guy who did stupid shit and goofed around and loved Alexander more than anything. But he took Alexander’s heart, and Alexander would always be waiting for it. 

_ —waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

John was perfect, like fireflies in a jar, like soft blankets in the morning, like the giddiness of a first date. They had never wanted to lose each other. And yet they had.

_ —waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

John was gone, dead. Alexander realized that ever since the burial, he hadn’t admitted that to himself, or anyone. He shut out his friends, swept his emotions under the rug with weed and booze and a hot stranger every week. 

_ —still waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

Alexander and John had never wanted a normal kind of love. But now they didn’t have a love at all. But Thomas was here and...  
_Oh._  
Alexander’s feelings slotted into place abruptly, as if John’s spirit had pushed them there. 

_ —waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

Thomas comforted Alexander, murmuring to him softly. Instead of the anger and rejection Alexander had prepared himself to face, he was met with open arms and a desire to fix things. 

_ —waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

Thomas was here, alive. His skin was warm and his mind was sharp and he actually cared. He wouldn’t leave Alexander, wouldn’t abandon him. That was evident in the way they clung to each other, tear-stained and clumsy. 

_ —still waiting for my heart—waiting for my heart— _

Alexander and Thomas had never wanted a normal kind of love. But now, there was still a chance for them to recover. 

Alexander pulled away from the hug, resting his hand comfortably on Thomas’s neck. Everything ached, a resounding hurt that would never go away. Even then, Alexander had found his heart. It had been here, all along, with Thomas.

“I love you too.” 

 

_ A new anniversary, a new day, a new chance.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the late update! I really hope y'all liked this post, so please leave a comment telling me what you think <3   
> The series is coming to a close, only two more fics to wrap up. This song is definitely emotional, and I wanted to portray the jumbled aspect of it in Alexander's thoughts.  
> Thank you for reading!


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